


Insanity

by GamerWires627



Series: Post-Game [1]
Category: OFF (Game)
Genre: Anxiety Attacks, Assisted Suicide, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Insomnia, Nightmares, Paranoia, Stuttering, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-17
Updated: 2019-03-17
Packaged: 2019-11-23 06:17:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,184
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18148190
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GamerWires627/pseuds/GamerWires627
Summary: Ten stories tall was certainly enough for the fall to be fatal. Yes, the fall would most definitely cause his demise, leading him to become reunited with his brother at last. Unless the ground was suddenly made of some unique substance that completely nullified fall damage. Or, against all odds, he would survive the fall just barely. And he would be hanging on by a thread, waiting in agony, with every bone in his body completely shattered, waiting for a Secretary or two or three to come along his broken form and finish the job.But ten stories high is too high to live through a fall.He was the one who helped the Batter leave Zone 0.This was all his fault.





	Insanity

A white tufted tail drifted lazily through the smoky air. He lay on the crate, something deep down telling him he had to wait here for the Batter to meet him. An eye open and bored, he inspected the odd creation in front of him, floating next to the annex wall.

It was a large silver ring with an ancient character inscribed on the bottom. It was emitting some kind of hum, and when he craned his neck, he could see what the inscription was.

“So, you are called Alpha?”

The buzzing somehow gained a positive tone.

“Interesting.”

There were echoing, sharp footsteps, and then the Batter was in the annex with Alpha and the Judge. As the Batter approached, the _déjà vu_ the Judge had been feeling all day intensified. “What is this?” the Batter asked, his voice a monotone. “Where is the leader of the spectres?”

“I’m afraid I’ve seen no such being,” the Judge responded. “But this peculiarity in front of us is called an Add-On, I believe. His name is Alpha.”

There was an offended buzz that the Judge could somehow decipher.

“I apologize, _her_ name is Alpha.”

That appeared to be right. The Batter reached out, almost to touch it, before having second thoughts and taking a step back.

“She is not hostile, if that is what you’re worried about. Go on.”

The Batter reached out to touch Alpha. The ring hummed happily and the Judge could almost hear an ‘Alpha has joined your party!’ somewhere. But the thought of that disappeared. He saw Alpha floating behind the Batter, and for a moment, just a moment…

He had the sinking feeling that something was horribly, terribly wrong.

Something about this whole situation was strikingly familiar, but no matter how it ate away at his mind, he could not place why he thought this.

* * *

 

It was standing on the post office rooftop that cause him to have the next odd thought.

Zacharie was with him, about to leave, when the Judge had brought it up. “Does this particular day feel… _familiar_ to you?” he asked simply.

Zacharie froze in place for a moment. Then he turned, calming himself, and said, “What do you mean by familiar?”

“Almost as though… you have already lived through the day.”

“Sounds like a movie I saw once.”

“What is a movie?”

“...Nevermind. I have to go meet the Batter. Script, yaknow?”

But the Judge didn’t know, and he didn’t have time to infer what Zacharie meant by the ‘script’. So he stayed on the rooftop, as he was a cat-- he was meant to _like_ high places.

_I wonder how fall the far is from here to the ground,_ he wondered. _Would it even hurt?_

Then he wound up disturbing himself, because that was the oddest thing to wonder about and wondering about such things would only bring trouble. After a few minutes, the Batter arrived on the rooftop. He began to question to cat about the strange building, and the Judge all but forgot about thinking of falling off a ten-thousand-floor building.

* * *

 

Stepping into Zone 2, the horrible feeling he’d had all day only worsened. He felt as though he’d be sick as he wandered, unsure _why_ he felt like this but subconsciously linking it to the déjà vu-- which also only became stronger as the day progressed.

He went through the motions that felt more and more familiar to him, talking to Zacharie, talking to the Batter, even talking to a few of the various Elsen. His brother’s little problem became apparent to him. He went to the rooftop with the Batter.

And he saw Valerie die.

The Judge sat there in shock until he heard the fatal crack of the bat against the phoenix's neck. The sound made his head turn towards the tall figure of the Batter, who stared right through the Judge.

He only felt more and more unsafe as Japhet delivered his final words.

The Batter struck again, and Japhet and Valerie were gone.

And then there it was-- the flickering perception of a reptilian beast instead of the Batter, staring at the Judge _hungrily_. He flickered back, simply stating that the zone was purified.

And it all went white.

* * *

 

Pablo had miaoued until his throat was sore. Nothing could change the guilt or the sorrow he felt as of his poor brother’s death. There was so much whispering, and those strange creatures below him on the ground (the ones his mind called ‘Secretaries’) screamed wildly at absolutely nothing at all.

Now all he could do was sit on the ledge and think.

His mind didn’t want to. It just wanted to mourn his dear departed brother. But when a thought finally came to him, it was only the comeback of a previous intrusion.

_I wonder what it would feel like to fall off this rooftop._

“It can’t hurt that much. Only for a moment,” he murmured.

Ten stories tall was certainly enough for the fall to be fatal. Yes, the fall would most definitely cause his demise, leading him to become reunited with his brother at last. Unless the ground was suddenly made of some unique substance that completely nullified fall damage. Or, against all odds, he would survive the fall just barely. And he would be hanging on by a thread, waiting in agony, with every bone in his body completely shattered, waiting for a Secretary or two or three to come along his broken form and finish the job.

But ten stories high is too high to live through a fall.

He was the one who helped the Batter leave Zone 0.

This was all his fault.

Zacharie was now dealing with the purifier in Zone 3, but Zacharie claimed that neither of them could do a thing to change the outcome. Because of the ‘script’.

Really, what was he talking about?

He could picture it. Hurtling through the stale air at terminal velocity. Hitting the ground with a bloody splatter. It would likely confuse the hell out of those Secretaries. Wondering why something died without them killing it.

What would Zacharie and Sugar think?

Well, Zacharie would just chalk it up to whatever that ‘script’ thing he was talking about. Pablo doubted Sugar would ever even know. He wasn’t even sure if she remembered who he was.

Was he really going to do this? Would he really take his own life over something like the death of his brother?

But it was more than his brother’s death. It was knowing that there was nothing anyone could do to stop the Batter. Not unless the Puppeteer wisened up at the last moment.

Everything was lost.

“I don’t normally find you up here so early.”

Pablo whirled around, nearly knocking himself off the ledge and into the monochromatic abyss, but it was only Zacharie. The merchant’s body language suggested that he was concerned.

“It’s normally after your ending that you get the idea to come up here. I was lucky to stop you, so we could wait out the rest of the loop instead of just-”

“What are you even talking about?!” Pablo demanded. “I can’t understand anything you say anymore, Zacharie! What is ‘The Script’? What do you mean, ‘the rest of the loop’? What do you mean by my ‘ending’, and why are you implying I’ve tried to kill myself?!”

Zacharie was taken aback for a moment before his response. “You don’t remember… of course. That’s why you’ve looked terrified all day. You knew something was off… --oh, ‘off’, ha-- but you couldn’t place it. Oh, god, you’ve gotten worse…”

“I’ve been _better_?”

“...Pablo, come here.”

“What if I don’t want to?”

“It doesn’t matter. The script won’t let you jump this early. Now, get off that ledge-- on _this_ side, please-- and get over here, and I’ll tell you all about the time-loop.”

* * *

 

Numb.

He didn’t realize how heavily he was breathing until Zacharie said something about it.

“Are… you okay?”

“No. No, I am not _okay_.”

“Pablo. You need to go meet the Batter before the script catches up. With any luck, the Puppeteer choses you and I can explain things better after the fall.”

A slow nod. Then the small white cat walked away, his smile gone, his eyes wide, and his entire demeanor absolutely suggesting that he was horrified and shaken by what he’d just been told. That he and Zacharie and the Batter and everyone else were supposed to relive the same day, over and over, with either the Judge or the Batter dying in the end. Even worse, the Queen and Hugo had to die as well. And all of, _yes_ , _every single one of_ the Elsen except for that one in the bunker in Bismark, who Pablo would have gone to find if it weren’t for needing to find the Batter.

The Batter was already in The Room, most likely battling the Queen at the moment. Then he would move on to slaughter Hugo.

And then it would all be up to the Judge to stop him.

And it _was_ all up to the Judge to stop him.

Part of him, he thought as he entered the Nothingness in order to reach The Room, wanted the Puppeteer to stay with their loyal puppet, so that the Judge could lose and die and forget any of this ever happened. But the other part wanted to survive the encounter, hungry for more information from Zacharie.

But he left the Nothingness.

And The Room was all white.

Pablo knew he barely had any time to reach his place, but he ran no faster than he would normally- at least, no faster than he _thinks_ he runs.

Just before he nearly felt the pull of the Script, he had satisfied it, and called out to the Batter with familiar words.

Sass was exchanged. The Judge scolded the Puppeteer as if they were a naughty child. There was a falter.

And the Judge felt a surge of power in his fragile form.

* * *

 

“I guessed that they chose you when everything stayed light,” said Zacharie.

Zone 0 was the only place untouched by Secretaries and the Batter’s holy wrath, seeing as its Guardian had lived to die another day at the moment. Pablo had found Zacharie sitting on the edge of the tallest building, swinging his legs many feet up from the sea of liquid plastic. A sea that, if Pablo remembered correctly, both of them had unfortunately wound up tasting (the most disgusting experience in their entire _lives_ , by the way) at some point or another.

“You h-have survived the switch b-being pulled?”

“Of course. You can’t kill the merchant, Pablo.”

Pablo went to sit down next to Zacharie. He was vaguely aware of the dried blood on his paws and face (mostly around his mouth), yet he was still repulsed by the idea of Zacharie touching him at the moment; really, he was repulsed by the idea of _anyone_ touching him at the moment.

“Are you alright?” the masked man asked. He slowly unmasked himself, knowing that Pablo had seen his bare face before and knowing that Pablo felt more secure with Zacharie being unmasked.

“Y-Y-Yes.”

“Did you just stutter?”

“W-Why would I-I-I be st-stuttering?”

“Something’s... wrong.”

“No. _E-e-everything_ is.” His voice was not any more than a whisper at this point-- a quiet, soft, unsure tone.

“I know it’s a lot to take in,” said Zacharie, trying to comfort as best as he could while Pablo shrunk away from his touch. “Pablo-”

“What?”

“Let me touch you. You won’t feel any better unless you let someone help you-”

“N-No. I d-d-don’t wish to be t-touched r-r-right n-now.”

“...Alright.” Zacharie had obviously been clued into the fact that something _more_ was wrong, because Pablo normally liked being held and pet when he was upset-- it calmed him. “What would help you feel better, then?”

“I-I...I d-do not kn-kn-know…”

“Really, Pablo, what’s with the stutter?”

“I-I-I-”

“Because it just really came out of nowhere, you know. By the way, there’s blood-”

“I-I-I d-d-don’t know any-anything about th-the st-st-stutter… b-but I kn-know ab-about the bl-blood.”

“Were you hurt? Is that why there’s blood and a stutter? Did he hit your head, maybe?”

“...M-Maybe, th-that could be th-the source. Even s-so, th-the blood… it a-a-all be-belongs to him.”

“So the blood on your mouth and paws is his and he also hit you-- a little cat-- in the head with a baseball bat.”

“Wh-why are you j-j-just repeating wh-what I said?”

“Because just a head injury wouldn’t make someone stutter… at least not _usually._ What do you think-”

“C-c-can we pl-please stop talking ab-about this?”

“Alright. Just don’t give yourself nightmares.”

* * *

 

Experiencing the restart of the loop was a terrifying experience. Everything went dark. And Pablo felt cold, numb, weightless, and nauseous before it was all over and then he was back where he started.

He tripped over his words until he died at the end.

The next time, he had pulled himself together.

His words didn’t shatter anymore.

And he couldn’t sleep.


End file.
